Buggin'

Spring has sprung in the RGV and this means the insects are in the house. Literally.

I've found silverfish in the cats' water dish, ants in both bathrooms, winged ants which stormed the living room en masse after a rain shower, fruit flies hovering around the to-compost pile and the dreaded roaches, most recently discovered in our closet. Ugh.

We came back from an overnight to Corpus Christi and found three dead roaches in the living room and kitchen. This shreds my theory that if I don't SEE roaches, they aren't really there. At least I have a good set of hunting cats to keep the indoor population out of sight/out of mind.

Spring means a lot of creepy crawlies outdoors, too. Like the massive caterpillar chowing on our lemon tree, an orb-weaving spider that looks like a spiky black crustacean. And the ants. I don't go looking for them, but lordy, do they ever find me.

A few weeks ago, I was trimming some brush along the back fence when I felt the first sting. I look down and my shoes, socks and cropped yoga pant legs are covered with ants. I started stomp dancing around to dislodge them but got a few more bites before the end of the dance-off.

Later, I unwittingly stepped on another nest while watering and ended up with six bites on my left leg and two on my right. Ant bites itch and eventually blister, turn a vivid scarlet on my gringa skin and take upwards of three weeks to heal. Oh, and they look ever so attractive when I wear a skirt, too.

So I'm spraying up before I leave the house every day and wishing there was something that effectively repelled the little blood-vacs that smells less chemical. Sigh.